Self Deceit
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: Evan starts to suspect that Severus might have switched sides and attempts a confrontation. FWW. Implied slash.


Evan lay on his back on the floor, hands behind his head, eyes wide open, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The room was silent, save for the ticking of the large clock perched in a dark corner. _Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. _The chime began to beat the hour, a low hollow sound that echoed around the room. Midnight. Evan's eyes regained focus and he began to tense, listening for something. Footsteps outside on the old beat-up staircase with its flickering enchanted lights and torn yellow wallpaper. _He never comes through the floo._ The footsteps halted, followed by the scraping of a key in the lock and the sound of an opening and shutting door. The room was dark; Evan knew he couldn't be seen. Some shuffling followed by a casually muttered incantation. Light flooded the living room.

Severus' startled intake of break was genuinely amusing. Evan didn't look at him but he could imagine Severus standing there, wand in ready attack position, slowly lowering as recognition dawned on him. "Do you _want_ to get killed, Rosier?"

"No, not particularly."

Snape, typically, ignored his answer. "What are you doing in the dark, on the floor?"

Evan shrugged, though doubted the gesture came across given his position. "Thinking?"

Snape scoffed and shuffled off into the kitchen.

"There's left over dinner in the pot, it should be warm, I put a thermos charm on it," Evan called after him, his voice just as apathetic.

"Thanks." Severus' gruff reply made his bad mood evident. Evan was too use to dealing with all of Severus' moods to be perversely affected by any one of them.

Evan closed his eyes, wishing he wouldn't have to do this but thinking about it had only strengthened his resolve. He needed to know what Snape's disappearances meant. He knew Severus' position as Voldemort's most valuable spy as he had infiltrated the Order yet these meetings with the Order seemed to unsettle Severus terribly in a way that Evan couldn't imagine why. His shields had also been incredibly high ever since this new arrangement, though Evan couldn't imagine why he merited Severus' suspicions. Evan had also managed to draw a parallel between these late night meetings and the sudden drop-off in mission success for the nect two or three operations. Severus often vented about Order meetings but these "special" rendezvous – Evan had a strong suspicion they involved Dumbledore personally – were never discussed, though they seemed to be what plagued Severus the most.

Snape came back into the room, a mug in one hand and a plate of food in the other. They didn't have a house elf here, in their humble little apartment on the outskirts of London, which, at first, was difficult for Evan but he learned a variety of household charms and spells rather quickly and Snape had taken care of the cooking until Evan mastered the art as well. Snape perched on the couch like some gigantic black crow and eyed Evan for a few moments before speaking. "So…do you want to tell me what you're doing on the floor? You're not trying to teach yourself clairvoyancy are you?"

Evan scoffed lightly at the idea. "No. I do have enough common sense, you know."

"Well then?"

"I told you. I'm thinking."

Severus leaned back against the couch and started eating, still watching Evan somewhat curiously.

"Severus, do you trust me?" Evan asked, his voice falling several tones to a half-whisper which, nevertheless, was perfectly audible in the quite room.

"Trust is a matter of circumstance, only a fool gives it unconditionally. But, generally, I suppose I do. Is there a reason you're asking such sentimental questions?"

Evan slowly sat up and looked at the other man with eyes clouded by uncertainty and a ghostly fear of what he might come to know. "Can I trust _you_, Severus?"

Apparently, that was not a question Snape was expecting for he froze instantly, the fork in his hand lingering in the space between the plate and his mouth. Evan just looked at him, steadily, without blinking, every moment of silence more painfully drawn out than the last. Finally, Snape began to eat his dinner once again. "I don't see why you shouldn't."

Evan shrugged. "I feel like you're hiding things from me. These meeting of yours—"

"For Merlin's sake, Rosier we've—"

"Stop it!" Evan cut in, more loudly than he intended to. "Stop calling me that."

"Calling you what?" Genuine confusion.

"Rosier."

Severus raised an eyebrow in question, half mocking. "Oh?'

Evan looked away, his ears turning red from embarrassment and frustration at the same time. "You never call me 'Ev' anymore," he muttered, words slurring together as he obviously shied away from them even as he spoke.

Severus set his plate down with purposeful slowness and looked at Evan with a look that was some sort of cross between amused and disturbed. "We're not little children anymore."

Evan shrugged and stood up. He paced to the window and turning his back to Severus looked out into the dark alley below. "No, we're not. You've made decisions and I'm apparently not a part of them. It happens. I don't expect anything." He couldn't see Severus' face and was thankful for it. The blank expression Snape always donned when he was uncomfortable about a subject frustrated Evan more than anything else his friend did.

"Would you believe me if I told you that anything I keep from you is for your own safety?"

"Not really. Sev. I'm not exactly a civilian in this war, I'm already in constant danger."

"This is different."

"How?"

A deep sigh. "Its classified information, you know most spy work is."

Evan leaned his forehead against the window, feeling the cool glass against his warm skin. He was terribly tired. "I'm scared, Sev. You know that? I'm scared for you, first of all."

"Don't be."

"I can't help it!" Evan whirled on him, eyes bright with suppressed tears, his heart pounding rapidly with excitement, frustration, anxiety… "You might not give a damn about anyone including yourself but I sure do! How do you think I feel when you suddenly disappear for three days without a word? Or when I know you're with that old toad, Dumbledore, and I wait and wait and the closer it gets to midnight the more I start imagining that today, today will be the day when you won't come back! Do you know I have nightmares? You getting found out and killed or worse…turning on me, betraying all of us, becoming one of them…" Evan broke off, breathless and exhausted, the poison of fear and suspicion that he had allowed to seep deep into his system now bleeding out with every word. Something about the mention of betrayal made Severus go pale and a muscle in his cheek twitch nervously but Evan barely noticed.

Severus crossed the distance between them in three long strides and put both hands on Evan's shoulders, drawing the young man into his personal space. 'Evan, nightmares are just that – bad dreams. They're not real."

Evan shook his head and laid it on Severus' shoulder, breathing in the scent of autumn leaves that lingered on Snape's shirt. "You don't understand, Sev. The things they say… Sometimes, I just feel like you don't care anymore. Like something changed. I keep seeing betrayal everywhere. I must be imagining things but… I feel so silly, so awfully silly and foolish and you're probably laughed at me terribly…" He wrapped his arms around Severus' neck, holding on to what he believed to be true. He couldn't do it. He couldn't force himself to pursue a line of questioning that might lead to such loses which he wasn't prepared to take, decisions that would either defile his honor or break his heart.

Severus sighed and pulled Evan into a full embrace. "Merlin, Ev. How do you manage to make such a tragedy out of everything?" He pulled back just enough to be able to touch his forehead against Evan's. He kissed the boy lightly on the corner of the mouth and murmured against his lips, "How could I betray you when I hate everyone in the world save for you."

Evan smiled softly, his eyes begging for another kiss, his hands already fidgeting with the top button of Severus' shirt. Lying to himself was not as hard as he had imagined.


End file.
